Awakening
by Alice V
Summary: They'd thought the ancient ones were dead -gone. They'd thought they would have peace, at least for a few more millenia. But they were wrong. And now the greatest threat of their lives is there, wishful to awake once again. (Two years after the beginning of the HoO series)
1. 0: Prologue

**0: Prologue**

Nico di Angelo was not a crowd person.

He was not, despite his age, that kind of guy who likes going to parties to enjoy himself. Nor was he the kind of guy who goes to some friends' reunions to talk and get drunk. In fact, he was a person who apparently enjoyed people mostly when they were dead, for he spent most of his time in graveyards, be it in the dead or the night or in middle of the day.

He was _that _kind of guy.

It is an understatement, therefore, to say that he did not feel comfortable as he saw the sea of people standing in front of him, talking and giggling in soft tones, as if to match the grace of the rustling expensive dresses and the tinkling of crystal glasses. He stood uncertain for a minute or two, wondering if he couldn't just shadow travel to the other side of the room. But no, he couldn't. There was magic in the air, he could feel it, and it was strong. He could feel it touch his skin; he could taste it in the air.

Not a very good sign. If things went wrong, there wasn't much he could do.

He faced the crowd, pushing them aside as he said "sorry" and smiled apologetically. It was funny, he thought, the way people averted him instinctively, as if there was a repellent magnetic field around him – which apparently stank, considering the faces they made. It was kind of sad, too, but by then he was more than used to it.

As he reached the far end of the room two huge men dressed in black who looked absolutely the same frowned for some moments, observing him thoroughly from head to toe. Then they stepped aside, revealing white double doors with golden knobs in the shape of torches. As Nico entered the room, the doors closed behind him with a smooth _click_.

The room he'd just gotten into was nothing like the finesse party he'd just come from. It was large, with stone walls and a black marble floor that glistened and reflected everything like a dark mirror. Flames flickered in torches attached to the walls and along all the room piles of old books with leather covers were tossed randomly. At the center of the room, a black rusty cauldron the size of a Jacuzzi stood like a piece of modern art. It was grand, in a scary sort of way, but it was also odd and tacky. By the far end of the room, three arched windows let the moonlight in. The central window was open and leaned against it a dark silhouette stood, quiet and motionless.

"Milady," he said as he bowed.

She did not move or say a word for some long seconds. Then she turned toward him and Nico could see the somber expression in her ageless face.

"So you came," she said. She analyzed him intently as if expecting a reply, but none came. "Do you know why you are here?"

"There's something you need me to do, I suppose," he frowned as he spoke. "Though I can't understand why you haven't called one of your own children."

"It's complicated. But you are a child of the Underworld. You should be safe with the task I ought to give you." The woman took something from the folds of her dark dress. "Come here. And do not worry. I won't turn you into a frog," and she smiled, as if the thought gave her pleasant memories. Nico shivered, but he still walked toward her.

What she gave him was the most unexpected thing – a dark piece of wood with a rag tied up to it. It looked like a wannabe torch made by a three year old, lame and even pitiful. He took it, hesitantly, wondering what he would have to do with it. As if reading his thoughts, the woman spoke.

"My quest for you is very simple, son of Hades. Carry this torch, take care of it and _don't lose it_." Her green eyes glowed with fierceness. "And when the time is right, you burn it. That's all."

He opened his mouth to protest, to ask her to tell him _when _the time would be right, but he gave up before he could say anything. She wouldn't tell him – he'd have to figure out by himself. Nico lowered his head with deference and muttered "Yes, Lady Hecate". She nodded in a sign that he could leave, and he was about to do so when he hesitated. There was something bothering him.

"Milady, why this party? I thought you were a loner goddess."

She smiled enigmatically.

"It's the Mist, Nico. It's all about the Mist." And with that said she left, disappearing in a midst of fog and shadows, leaving only a faint green glow behind.


	2. 1: The Birds

**1: The Birds**

It was early morning. The streets were empty, but in some places hints of activity could now be seen or heard. The birds sang their songs and the nocturnal animals were getting to sleep as shades of purple and pink and yellow tinted the dark blue sky.

Reyna liked watching the sky. It reminded her of Atlas, the world bearer Titan, who reminded her of her own burden and the strength that she ought to have as a _praetor_. The streets in the dawning day were silent, and she liked that too. It gave her space to think and made her feel less suffocated, less strained. She couldn't say she didn't enjoy her role in the Roman camp – to some extent, she was even glad that Percy and Annabeth had destroyed her previous home. But it was a tough job and it had made her lonely and bitter. She saw herself with no perspective, with no course once her time was over and she could rest – and that scared her.

And then there was she, a runaway, a ruler breaker, pacing down the streets with a gloomy expression on her face. _Not very Roman of me_, she thought, but for once that statement didn't bother her as much as she thought it should. Reyna even smiled, but it was a bitter smile, one that made her want to cry.

A fussy rustling filled the air, slowly and constantly increasing, until it caught her attention. Reyna's eyes wandered around for a while and then shock and puzzlement filled them – the idea of crying abandoned immediately her head. There was a house, about twenty meters away from her, and it was an old, abandoned house. The once red bricks were darkened with time, corroded by the inclement weather, covered by the moss. The windows were shut with smutty wooden boards, the grass was tall and wild and the smell of mold and abandon impregnated the air, even from distance. But the most impressive thing about the house was not the old, beat-up aspect, nor the general feeling of death that it irradiated.

It was the birds.

Reyna just couldn't believe her eyes. As she came closer, she discerned them – there were hundreds of them, of many sizes and shapes and textures and colors. There were pigeons and crows. There were hummingbirds, swifts, owls and cuckoos. There were a few eagles, two falcons, three hawks that she could see and one or two peacocks. There were many birds she couldn't recognize, for she'd never even imagined they existed.

They covered the roof of the old house, and they covered partially the roofs of the houses nearby, for there wasn't room for them all. And more and more came, and the rustling only got louder, until Reyna thought the sound of their wings would drive her crazy. She hid in the shadows, her eyes wide open and her hands covering her ears.

And suddenly they stopped, all at the same time. There was no singing, no rustling – even the air seemed to have gone still, as if the world was holding its breath. The birds in the roofs looked up to the sky, in expectation. Reyna followed their eyes, and what she saw made her gasp.

One big bird, the size of a horse and with the grace of a swan, descended slowly to the center of the ruined house's roof. It was beautiful, truly breath-taking. The feathers were of gold and amber and copper and brass. They looked soft, and they looked like steel, all at the same time. The sunlight touched them as it rose, and the bird glowed with it, marvelously, spectacularly. It was almost as if it was catching on fire, or maybe as if it _was _the fire itself.

_It's a miracle, _thought Reyna in a daze, _but it's also scary. _

A sense of dread filled her as she watched the conference of birds. For some reason, it looked like a war council, and Reyna knew enough about war councils to understand that those birds were very angry – and that someone would pay for that. They hooted and screeched, and they swayed their wings crustily and nervously. The big bird only heard, not peeping even once for a long time. It almost looked like a statue, made to be venerated.

And then the strangest thing happened: the world flickered for an instant, and then, as if Reyna had been underwater, her surroundings became hazy and vague. The peeping of the birds became distant, as if there was a radio on distance broadcasting the sounds of nature with a lot of interference.

Then the world got normal again, with no haziness and no flickering. Hesitantly, Reyna looked to the roof of the House of Birds. But there was no bird. There was no peeping or screeching or rustling of wings. Only silence and something else. Reyna turned toward the source of the "something else", puzzled and scared as the memory of the birds slipped away from her mind.

The "something else" was a girl in a bicycle, riding slowly as she watched the sunrise with uneasiness. From the distance, Reyna couldn't see much, but as the girl stopped the bike and looked around, she saw those eyes – strange eyes, of vivid kryptonite green, glowing with the sunlight.

She'd already forgotten all about the birds, but she wouldn't forget those eyes too soon, or the feeling that they gave her: a feeling of deceit, of occult magic and of deep secrets she wished she'd never have to face.

The girl entered a house and Reyna left, but not without glancing once again to the old house, wondering why she had hidden in the shadows in the first place.

::

"Where have you been?"

Reyna didn't answer. Her eyes were fixed in the distance, thoughtful and worried.

"Reyna?"

A hint of irritation surfaced in her face. She pursed her lips with distaste.

"Yes?"

"Is there anything wrong?"

She finally glanced at him, for just a few seconds, before she looked away once more.

"I'm fine," she said.

"Yeah, sure. And I'm Batman."

"I've always suspected," she muttered to herself.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

Jason stared at her with concern in his electric blue eyes, and then he sat down by her side in the lawn. There was a respectful distance between them, but the tension that had been there for almost two years had decreased. He was glad about that. Reyna was a tough person to know, but she was brave and loyal, and a very good friend.

"You can talk to me, you know."

She didn't say anything at that. There was nothing to be said, after all. They sat completely still for some moments, just appreciating the silence. Then Reyna shifted, uncomfortably.

"There's something… It's like it's slipped from my mind." She hesitated.

"But you don't remember anything?"

She shook her head, and then she slowly stopped. Her eyes brightened for a moment, and then they faded once again.

"What?"

"There's something. I think." She gulped. "About birds."

"Birds?"

"Birds. But I don't remember." She gritted her teeth. "I hate not remembering."

Jason gave her a lopsided smile.

"Now you know how I felt."

Reyna didn't answer. As far as he could tell, she'd drowned into her own thoughts once again. And from his experience, she would only get back to her normal self once she'd come to a course of action. Jason sighed. Then, as the hour of the morning duties approached, he got up. She followed him, almost unconsciously, and in silence they went back together to the Via Praetoria.


End file.
